I don’t know when it all started, maybe the “nuggs” kid, but at some point someone Tweeted to a company and asked “How many Retweets for *insert ask here*?” Since then people have jumped on the bandwagon and asked for free chicken nuggets for a year, yearbook photos with actors, free tickets to Universal Studios, memorabilia, photos at a stadium, and so much more.

This latest “I want to go viral in the most self-serving way” phenomenon got me thinking; Why don’t these companies, teams, celebrities, etc require more than a crazy amount of Retweets? Brands probably either see this as goodwill or laugh at the ridiculous number they just Tweeted to the requestor, but how about instead of needing 500 trillion Retweets, challenge them! Up the game! Make the requestor earn what they’re asking for! They want something for free? An experience that would normally cost thousands of dollars or is priceless? Well then challenge them to volunteer at a local animal shelter or soup kitchen for a certain amount of hours, prove that they get straight A’s, write an essay on why they deserve this opportunity. What I’m saying is, make them prove they’re worth this extraordinary ask!

When I was younger and would ask my parents for something, their response was always “What have you done to deserve it?” Had I cleaned the house? Taken out the garbage? How were my grades? (This one never turned out well) Heck, if I asked my parents to bring my Girl Scout cookie sheet to their offices I probably had to go to all the homes in our neighborhood and try to sell to them first. The point is, I had to work for it.

Yes, I know that there will be people out there that tell me I’m a stick in the mud. That it’s all in good fun, and sure it is and it was funny the first few times, but I think it’s getting a little out of hand. The copycat bandwagon has jumped the shark. So I’m going to put a challenge out to brands on Twitter, the next time someone asks for something outrageous in the name of Retweets, challenge them back to do something meaningful instead. Oh you want to make it fun instead? Ok, then a photo scavenger hunt or an original video. As a brand you can then turn any of these opportunities into content!

(BTW Callie, I hope you get to take you prom photos on the field, no matter if you get those 500,000 Retweets or not, because that would be really awesome.)

My last blog post received a lot of attention. Numerous people reached out to thank me for writing it. Telling me they’ve gone, or are going, through the same experience. I would say it’s comforting to know that I’m not alone, but I do not wish this on anyone!

So far no job offers have come out of the posting, but I did make my podcast debut on the “Tao of Sports” thanks to the post. Host Troy Kirby and I had a 30 minute chat about working in sports and breaking news social media, that photo I took back in 2011 that went viral, and how #HireStef came to be. If you’re so inclined, have a listen!

*Editorial note. I started writing this a month ago and the title was a little different, but then I had two opportunities go deep into the interview process and a month-long freelancing gig. Well, the opportunities fell through and the freelancing gig ended.

Seven months ago I was called into a conference room and told that I no longer had a job.

It’s not the first time this had happened to me, layoffs unfortunately happen, but it was slightly unexpected. Two weeks prior I was covering the NHL All-Star Game in Los Angeles. In early January I was in Tampa for the National Championship. In December I was focused on SI’s Sportsperson of the Year event. A month before that I was interviewing for a promotion at work. A lot can change in three months, huh? Anyway, back to that day in February, I had that terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach when my boss sent me a Slack message with no context asking me to come to a random conference room.

What happened next was like listening to the Peanuts teacher. I’m pretty sure I heard things like, “you’ve done a great job here,” and “thank you for your hard work and dedication” What my now ex-boss was saying to me didn’t matter, I didn’t have a job anymore. Like any job, working at Sports Illustrated had its ups and downs, but I loved that I had the opportunity to work for a revered sports publication. A publication that I had been reading for as long as I could remember. I helped build their social presence with an ever-changing team. However, all of that was gone now. Like too many people, I became a modern day media statistic.

One thing I heard continuously after sharing my news was, “You won’t be out of a job long! Someone will snatch you up right away.” Well, as I mentioned at the beginning of this, we recently hit the seven month mark. Seven months might not seem like a long time to most, but it really is. I miss going to work. I miss having a work family. I miss planning for events and content. I miss working with writers, editors, producers, athletes, etc.

I even miss meetings. WHAT?!

The past seven months have been an emotional roller coaster. I try to keep myself as busy as possible so I don’t find myself sitting on my couch feeling sorry for myself (Spoiler: It happens more often than I’d like to admit). It’s really difficult when you lose your job and know you did nothing wrong. Honestly, it sucks. But as I’ve said, I’ve kept myself busy. When I’m not applying for jobs, I try to get out of my apartment as much as possible. I’ll take a stroll around Central Park. Explore the city. See family. Spend time with friends. I take on freelance work whenever possible.

The hardest part has been the job application and interview process. It’s an emotionally draining job. One you don’t get paid for. You spend hours a day filling out online applications, tailoring your cover letters to what you think you the hiring manager wants to read and then you wait. You reach out to people in the industry who might know someone where you applied, but mostly you wait. You jump with anticipation when your phone rings with an unfamiliar number or an email drops into the primary tab in Gmail.Sometimes that email is only to tell you that the job you know you’re perfect for has been filled and you never even got a phone interview.

Then you finally receive an email that someone wants to set up a time for an in-person interview. YES! Do I be funny? Witty? Serious? What should I wear? Can I get away with a dress or should I wear a suit? How much time should I factor in for travel? Is the subway running without crazy delays? What did the interviewer think of me? Did they like me? Did I say all the right things or did they think I sounded like an idiot? You second guess every moment of the interview. You know you have too.

Next up, the thank you email where you try to remember what you said to each person you met with to give the email a touch of a personal feel. You wait again. Occasionally there’s more interviews, GREAT! Shampoo, rinse, repeat. Going deep into the interview process is when you start to get excited. You begin to imagine yourself working for this company. You plan how you’re going to get back on your feet. You begin to look at apartments if the job is in another state. You start thinking about the witty way you’ll tell social media that you’re finally gainfully employed again and how excited you are for the opportunity! Until you find out early one morning, or months later, or over a weekend that they’ve decided you’re not the right person for a job. That they’ve found someone who checks all their boxes. That they’ve decided to move in another direction. Sometimes you never hear back at all. This, my friends, is the most crushing part. The tears flow. You begin to question the whole process and ask when it’ll be your turn. Your friends and family say; “Well, it clearly wasn’t meant to be, and the perfect opportunity is right around the corner.” This is what I’ve told myself numerous times since February.

Then you start all over again.

It’s a roller coaster, but we’re not at Six Flags, and I want off this ride.

It’s been seven months. I’m exhausted. All I want right now is to work somewhere where I am happy, where my work is appreciated, and where I’m paid enough to not have to freelance on the side. I don’t think I’m asking for much.

For not telling me I should do something else when I was younger and told you that I wanted to be the color commentator (along with John Davidson) in the New York Rangers broadcast booth.

For being as excited as I was, if not more, when I got my first sports internship, my job at MLB, my job at Sports Illustrated, my first byline on SI.com.

For watching sports with me, even the ones you’re not too fond of.

For sharing your love of sports with me.

For having those in-depth sports conversations with me and admitting when I was right and you were wrong. For teaching me the basics and the intricacies.

For sending me all of those care packages of Sports Illustrated and the Sunday Sports Section while I was away at camp.

For letting me pick up Grandpa Morris for family dinners, once I was old enough to drive, so we could take a trip down Yankee memory lane and he could tell me stories. (I miss those.)

For taking me to Spring Training in Fort Lauderdale and Tampa where all we watched was batting practice and fielding drills for hours on end.

For encouraging me to write more, especially about sports.

For telling me how proud Grandpa would be if he could see what I wrote about our connection through the Yankees.

For the smile on your face when I get into deep sports conversations with men where you live and they have shock on their but your face just says, “That’s my daughter!” And you tell them “I told you so.”

For telling me that I can do anything I want to do, if I put my heart and mind into it.

For taking me to see WWF for my 12th birthday.

For not telling me I can’t pursue a career in professional sports because I’m a woman.

You see Dad, I have been lucky enough to have you, Jeff*, Grandpa Jack, Grandpa Morris, Uncle Arny and tons of male friends and colleagues encourage me every day of my life. But, there are men out there that actually don’t believe that women have a place in male sports beyond being cheerleaders. That we couldn’t possibly know all that they know because we’re women. They try to “mansplain” (enjoy the chuckle you’ll get out of that word) things to us when they think they know more than us. They call us nasty words and wish harmful things upon us because we have an opinion that differs from their’s. They say “Well, actually…” when we are speaking from personal and professional experience and they’re at home behind their computers. They don’t question Mike Emrick’s place in the broadcast both, even though he has admittedly never played a day of hockey in his life. But, do question Jessica Mendoza’s place in the ESPN booth, even though she is an Olympic gold and silver medalist and 4-time First Team All-American in softball! I could go on about the nastiness, but you get the idea.

So, again… THANK YOU, DAD. Thank you never telling me I couldn’t do what I love to do because I’m a woman.

Earlier this month I started working with Mattingly Charities (yes, as in Don Mattingly). No, I’m not leaving Sports Illustrated, this is something additional, but an opportunity I couldn’t possibly turn down. I will be running all of the social for the organization, as well as keeping the website looking, as the kids say, on point.

Now, here’s where I need your help! We want to get the word out about the relaunch of the website (it went live TODAY!), the very cool event that will be happening in Evansville, Indiana on December 3rd, and of course the social media pages.

Mattingly Baseball Charities has been created to serve underprivileged youth by supporting programs which promote baseball and softball participation in conjunction with other developmentally related activities. Mattingly Charities will provide funding and services and equipment for baseball, softball, and ultimately other sports, and related youth development activities, for the benefit of underprivileged youth, youth leagues, and social welfare and related organizations. 100% of the efforts of the organization will be focused on these activities.

Miracle on Ice players recall their iconic Sports Illustrated cover – Originally I was only supposed to write one post, but I spoke to some of the players about their cover and what they said was just too amazing not to write about. Ken Morrow actually brought it up to me when I told him where I work! To be honest, I could have sat around and spoken to Jack O’Callahan for hours.

Currently, SI.com/hockey has a series called “Gut-Punch Losses.” Hey, gotta fill the summer pages somehow!

June 13, 2014- Game 5 Stanley cup Final – Being the resident life-long overly passionate Rangers fan, I was asked to write about their worst loss. Now, what I wrote about wasn’t their worst loss I’ve ever watched, but it was honestly the first game that came to mind. That said, writing about it brought back all the terrible memories of that game.

**NOTE: I’m posting this on Sunday as Derek Jeter has already left the game after going 1-2 with an RBI single at Fenway Park, but wrote this on Friday morning with my emotions still raw from Thursday night.**

I took this photo at the first game ever played at the new Yankee Stadium back in 2009 (Photo: Stefanie Gordon)

Last night I witnessed the end of an Era. Not only was last night the final home game of Derek Jeter’s amazing Hall of Fame career, but also the last game I will witness with the connection between my grandfathers’ Yankees and my Yankees still intact. Yes, the Yankees have three more games to play up in Boston, but I am typing this on my way to Madison, Wisconsin to watch my University of South Florida Bulls take on my brother’s University of Wisconsin Badgers for the first time ever tomorrow afternoon. So chances of seeing another Yankees game live are slim. Yes, I have the DVR set for Sunday, but watching a game on replay is just never the same as watching it live (I watched Jeter’s last AB live on my phone, isn’t the future great?! And yes…I teared up).

Derek Jeter hits an RBI double in the first inning (Photo: Stefanie Gordon)

If we’re friends or family you know my connection to the Yankees runs deep. My grandfathers saw amazing milestones at Yankee Stadium like Lou Gehrig’s speech, Don Larson’s perfect game, Chris Chambliss’ home run, etc etc etc. My grandfathers weren’t just Yankees fans, they were baseball fans they loved and respected the game. My Grandpa Morris was probably the biggest Yankees fan you could have ever met. He would watch games, or talk about the team whenever possible. Even when we all moved to Florida, when I was in high school, and he was forced to watch the Marlins, he still spoke about the Yankees. I’ve told this story before, give my grandfather a date, he probably could have told you if the Yankees played, who pitched, who scored the winning run, etc. Grandpa Morris shared his love of the Bronx Bombers with my dad. And my brother and I inherited that love from our dad.

The day my Grandpa Morris died, the Yankees clinched the American League to face the Arizona Diamondbacks in the 2001 World Series. I remember being on my phone with my dad, sad that my grandpa was gone and instead of consoling my dad over the loss of his father, he was consoling me. My dad’s words that evening will live with me forever, “Go watch and root on the Yankees, that’s what Grandpa would want you to do.” Of course, that’s what I did. A few days later, my family gathered in New Jersey for my grandpa’s funeral. As we stood by the grave, my father spoke about the man his father was and his last words were of course about my grandfather’s connection to the Yankees (and I’m paraphrasing here…this was 13 years ago) “My dad saw some great Yankee players, from Babe Ruth, to Lou Gehrig, to Joe Gordon, to Mickey Mantle (Dad’s favorite player), to Derek Jeter. That’s pretty cool.” Wow…can you imagine being that lucky? Who else was that lucky? My grandfathers were both over 90 years old when they passed in 2000 and 2001. That’s A LOT of Yankees baseball.

So last night was the last Yankees connection I had to my grandfathers. The last of the players they watched are no longer wearing pinstripes and Bob Sheppard. All gone. No more. Sure, we’ll probably (hopefully) always hear Mr. Sheppard welcome us to Yankee Stadium. Welcome us to Old Timer’s Day. Tell us we’re watching the Yes Network. But we’ll never hear him announce a player as they come up to the plate. No more, “Now batting for the Yankees number 2, Derek Jeter, number 2.” Almost fittingly, the last time we heard that was right before the captain laced an opposite field walk-off hit in the bottom of the ninth. Only thing more perfect would have been if he did that to win the World Series. Unfortunately, that wasn’t meant to be. Mr Sheppard’s voice during a game is now just a memory. Something we’ll only hear during “Yankees Classics.”

I often wonder what my grandfathers would think of the new Yankee Stadium. They’d probably say the same thing my dad did the first time he saw it “It’s cool….but it’s not the same.” Ok, they wouldn’t have said, “cool” but you get the idea.

Ok, I’ve gone on too much of a tangent. Possibly because I had about 4 hours of sleep last night and I’m typing through tears. Tears from exhaustion. Tears that I’ll never get to see my favorite player lead his team onto the field again. Tears that I’ll never get to see my favorite player in pinstripes again (yeah…Old Timers Day doesn’t count). Tears that the last Yankee connection I had to my grandfathers is now hanging up his cleats.

One last time at shortstop (Photo: Stefanie Gordon)

I’m lucky to have witnessed last night in person. I’m lucky to have witnessed Derek Jeter’s full career, even as a prospect at Spring Training while he wore number 74. I’m lucky that I still have my dad to share more Yankees memories with. Joe DiMaggio famously said, “I want to thank the good lord for making me a Yankee.” Well, I want to thank my grandfathers for making me a Yankees fan.